Simultaneously traversing: traversing countless heavens

Chapter 100 The Confucian Sage Xie Guanying

Day two.

The morning light was faint, yet it couldn't penetrate the thick fog that permeated the desolate mountains.

Raindrops from last night clung to the leaves and branches of the plants, the air was crisp and damp, filled with the scent of earth and decaying leaves.

Beneath a sheltered rocky outcrop, the embers of the campfire had long since cooled, leaving only a few wisps of smoke curling weakly upwards.

Where is my mother?

A childish voice broke the silence, hoarse from just waking up and with a slight, barely perceptible tremor.

Nangong Pushe lay on Zhou Yi's broad chest, his small hands tightly gripping the fabric of his clothes. His eyes were red and swollen, like a frightened little animal trying to calm itself down, anxiously looking around at the completely unfamiliar rugged rocks and mist-shrouded forest.

Zhou Yi lowered his head, his gaze falling on her upturned face.

"Dead." His voice was flat and emotionless, as if he were recounting an old story that had nothing to do with him.

A brief silence.

The girl's breath seemed to catch in her throat for a moment, and her fingers gripped his shirt tighter, her knuckles turning white.

"Who killed him?" This time, the tremor in his voice disappeared, replaced by a cold, hard tone that seemed out of place for his age.

"Your father."

The air seemed to freeze.

Nangong Pushe's eyes were wide open, and something deep within his pupils was shattering and rapidly freezing.

After a long pause, she spat out four words, one by one, through gritted teeth, filled with chilling coldness and boundless hatred: "I will take my revenge!"

Zhou Yi looked at the flame burning in her eyes, a flame that seemed to consume her completely, and offered no words of advice or comfort, only a brief "Mm."

This brief response eased her tense little body slightly, but her red eyes were still filled with tears and stubbornness.

She looked away, her gaze sweeping uneasily over the unfamiliar wilderness once more. Her voice lowered, filled with the fear of an unknown fate unique to a child: "You—you're going to sell me?"

"Won't."

"Where are we going?"

Zhou Yi held her and stood up.

His movements were very steady; even while holding a child, he moved as if walking on flat ground in the rugged mountains.

He gazed into the depths of the mist, his eyes seemingly trying to pierce through the layers of mountains to find a predetermined destination, but in the end, there was only emptiness there.

"have no idea."

He started walking and went deeper into the fog.

Nangong Pushe nestled obediently on his shoulder, his little hands encircling his neck. After a moment of silence, he asked again, "Don't you have a home?"

Zhou Yi paused almost imperceptibly for a moment, then continued on his way.

After a long pause, he silently shook his head.

The mountain breeze ruffled his unbound long hair and brushed against his expressionless profile.

After walking a distance, the surrounding scenery remained unfamiliar and repetitive.

Zhou Yi stopped and looked down at the girl in his arms, asking, "Do you know where this is?"

Nangong Pushe was taken aback. He lifted his head from his shoulder, strained his eyes to carefully discern the surrounding trees, rocks, and indistinct mountain shapes, and then shook his head in frustration.

"I've never been here before," she said softly, with a hint of resigned helplessness.

For ten years, Zhou Yi confined himself to the small courtyard of the Nangong family, spending his days with wine and knowing almost nothing about the outside world.

He only knew that he had been in the Northern Wilderness all these years, but now he had no idea where he was or what territory he was in.

In addition, he couldn't distinguish between east, west, south, and north.

After hesitating for a moment, he lowered his head, looked into the clear yet weary eyes of the girl in his arms, and asked a question that was quite practical to him but might sound absurd to others: "Do you know which way is east, west, south, or north, and which side is south?"

A very complex expression instantly appeared on Nangong Pu She's small face.

His expression was a mixture of astonishment, bewilderment, and a hint of something he was trying hard to hide but still managed to reveal—like he was looking at an incomprehensible fool.

She blinked, as if to make sure she hadn't misheard.

Under Zhou Yi's calm and focused gaze, Nangong Pushe pursed his lips, hesitated, and tentatively pointed his little finger toward the direction of the thick fog to their right.

"Over there?" Zhou Yi confirmed.

Nangong Pushe nodded very slightly, but his eyes were somewhat unfocused.

She wasn't really sure either.

My nanny taught me how to tell directions, but I always had servants when I went out, so this was the first time I actually used it.

And as an adult, why can't you even tell directions?

In fact, Nangong Pushe's understanding of the Book of Changes was pitifully limited.

The most memorable time was many years ago, when she was very young, playing with a colorful little ball under the corridor of her mother's courtyard.

At that moment, a tall, dark figure silently walked from the other end of the corridor.

She looked up curiously.

Just one glance.

Cold and deathly silent, like two bottomless pools of ice, churning with things she couldn't understand but instinctively feared.

Even though he didn't look down at her, she was startled by his gaze. Her hand loosened, and her beloved ball fell to the ground with a "thud" and rolled away.

Only after the figure walked past her expressionlessly and disappeared into the corner of the corridor did she belatedly realize what was happening and burst into tears, startling everyone in the courtyard.

She remembered that first meeting for a long time.

However, in the following ten years, she saw him only a handful of times.

Moreover, the man in my memory, whose fierce eyes could scare children to tears, seemed to have vanished.

He became a disheveled drunkard confined to a remote courtyard, spending his days with wine jars, unkempt, with cloudy eyes, and always exuding an unpleasant, strong smell of alcohol.

His mother set aside a separate, quiet courtyard for him to live in, where it seemed he was all alone.

His mother also instructed that she should personally deliver wine to him every month.

At first, she reluctantly complied, but she only stood outside the moon gate of the courtyard with disgust, letting her personal servant carry the wine jar inside.

Later, she grew increasingly disgusted with the overwhelming smell of alcohol and the drunken, silent man, so she refused to even go outside the courtyard, only sending the lowest-ranking servants to deliver the wine on time.

Ten years have passed, and there has been almost no time between them.

At this moment, this blank and unfamiliar man is holding her, lost in the vast fog and mountains, needing to ask her, a half-grown child, for even the most basic directions.

Nangong Pushe quietly withdrew his fingers, gently pressed his face against Zhou Yi's slightly cool neck, and closed his eyes.

The road ahead is unknown, and the hatred runs deep. It seems that the only person she can rely on is this strange "uncle" who doesn't even know which way to go.

Northern Mang, Xie family.

Inside the exquisite waterside pavilion surrounded by clear water, the melodious sound of the zither drifts like a babbling brook or a spring breeze rustling through the new willows, carrying a leisurely and carefree charm.

Xie Guanying, dressed in a moon-white brocade robe, was spotless. His fingertips skillfully plucked the strings of the guqin, his expression calm, and a lingering, smug smile played on his lips.

Outside the pavilion, the lake surface was as clear as a mirror. Countless bright red koi carp were attracted by the sound of the zither and gathered together, swirling and rippling in circles beneath the surface, as if silently applauding his performance.

This tranquil and elegant scene was abruptly broken by a series of hurried and heavy footsteps.

The newcomer was none other than the patriarch of the Xie family. His face was ashen, and he moved with a brisk pace. Before he even reached the pavilion, his angry voice preceded him: "Should I praise your composure and calmness in the face of danger, or should I curse you for being fearless and reckless?!"

The old patriarch stepped into the waterside pavilion, snorted coldly, and his gaze swept over his son's leisurely and self-satisfied appearance like a knife. "Nangong family!"

"That madman Nangong Batian has already mustered three thousand iron cavalry and is charging towards our Xie family! Do you think they're here to discuss music and tea with you?!"

He was filled with resentment and disdain for what his biological son had done.

Such scheming and cold-bloodedness, using a woman to achieve personal advancement, is ultimately not a righteous path and is despised by others.

But the matter has come to this, and the done thing is done.

The daughter of the Nangong family had already died and disappeared, becoming a sacrifice and stepping stone for her son's advancement in martial arts.

No amount of contempt or anger can change this bloody reality.

After all, no matter how utterly despicable or beastly he is, he is still a member of the Xie family, his own son.

Is it really necessary to uphold justice and kill this already accomplished son to atone for one's sins?

The Xie family will still need to rely on him in the future.

Suppressing his surging anger and complex emotions, the old patriarch urgently said to Xie Guan, who was still playing the zither, "You absolutely cannot stay in Northern Mang!"

"The Nangong family wields great power in the court, and this time they are truly enraged. They will stop at nothing to tear you apart!"

"Pack immediately and leave right now! To the Great Chu, to Jiangnan!"

"No one in the world dares to cause trouble in the Jiangnan region!"

Before the music had faded, Xie Guanying's fingertips produced a series of clear and melodious overtones before he leisurely stopped playing.

He looked up at his anxious father, his smile deepening, a calm expression of complete control and a sense of overlooking the world.

"Father, don't panic." He said in a relaxed tone, "I had planned to go to Jiangnan anyway. The scenery of Southern Tang, the misty pavilions, and that nameless swordsman of Southern Tang who made a stunning appearance ten years ago and was hailed as the best in the world—I can take this opportunity to see his style and verify what I have learned."

After twenty years of planning, he achieved success in one day, rising to the top in one step, and he was naturally very proud.

He even felt that if he were given another twenty years, even the nameless swordsman of the Southern Tang Dynasty, who was the best in the world ten years ago, would be no match for him.

Xie Guanying paused, his fingertips unconsciously brushing across a string, producing a soft hum, and a glint of light flashed in his eyes.

"However, before heading south, there is one more matter that needs to be properly settled."

"What is it?" The old patriarch frowned, a sense of foreboding rising in his heart.

Xie Guanying smiled slightly, his tone as calm as if he were talking about the weather: "Before I leave, I must make proper arrangements for my daughter with her. After all, we are blood relatives."

"Hmph!" Upon hearing this, the old patriarch's face darkened further, and he angrily shouted, "You beast!"

"What are you pretending to be for in front of me?! When you did those things, did you ever think she was your own flesh and blood?! And now you're putting on this act!"

He truly loathed his son's hypocritical demeanor.

Immediately, the old patriarch suddenly recalled the vague yet chilling secret report he had received the previous night. His expression hardened, and he said in a deep voice, "Moreover—something happened in the Nangong family last night. It's said that an extremely powerful man in black protected that child and fought his way out. That man—wasn't he someone you arranged?"

"To be able to escape unscathed from Old Man Nangong, one's strength is probably no less than that of a Celestial Phenomenon Realm cultivator! You want to settle that child? It won't be so easy!"

"Just leave. She's just a child. Are you going to scheme against even your own flesh and blood?!"

"Father, you mean the man in black?" Xie Guanying's smile turned slightly cold as he shook his head. "That wasn't one of my men. Perhaps it was my wife—ha, perhaps she was a pawn that woman secretly planted to save herself. But it doesn't matter."

He gently plucked the strings, producing a slightly sharp ringing sound, startling the koi carp in the lake into scattering.

"The game is over, the outcome is decided. They have already lost." Xie Guanying's voice carried an undeniable certainty mixed with a hint of indifference. "As for the Celestial Phenomenon Realm—"

He suddenly laughed, initially a low chuckle, then it turned into an unrestrained, proud, and delighted laugh.

"Hahaha—Father, you underestimate your child!"

As the laughter subsided, Xie Guanying's gaze sharpened as he looked at his father, each word clear and distinct: "Do you think that I endured twenty years of scheming and painstaking planning, sparing no expense, merely to achieve the Celestial Phenomenon Realm?"

The old patriarch was shocked and looked at his son in disbelief.

Without warning, Xie Guanying's aura underwent a subtle change.

It is not overwhelmingly powerful, but rather a deeper, more restrained, and mysterious feeling that seems to resonate subtly with the rhythm of the surrounding world.

The breeze outside the waterside pavilion, the ripples on the lake, and even the subtle movement of dust particles in the air all seemed to be in an indescribable harmony under his influence.

He raised his hand, looking at his long, slender, fair fingers that seemed to contain boundless power. His tone was calm, yet carried a startling undertone: "The Taisho Dynasty's nine-rank martial arts system has the Saint rank as its pinnacle. I, your humble servant, have recently been fortunate enough to—reach this level."

He looked up at his shocked and speechless father, his smile returning to its gentle and refined form, yet revealing an unsettling absolute confidence.

"It's just a minor Celestial Realm cultivator. My desire to take my daughter back is nothing more than—"

His fingers lightly touched the strings, without applying any force, yet the instrument itself emitted a deep, resonant sound, quite different from the previous ones, causing the cups and saucers on the coffee table to tremble slightly.

"————It's a piece of cake."

Inside the waterside pavilion, the music had ceased, leaving only the lingering resonance of a single vibrating string, mingling with the sound of koi carp stirring the water as they regrouped on the lake, and the turbulent emotions surging within the heart of the Xie family's patriarch, lingering for a long time.

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Xie Guanying, the madman.

I had thought of this chapter title, but I figured it wouldn't pass muster.